


Finding Your Way

by banneg



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-07-06 18:24:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15891531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banneg/pseuds/banneg
Summary: It's a long trip, driving by horse drawn cart to an undisclosed location.  How can simple moments and small conversations lead to so much more... I wanted to explore the evolution of their relationship, particularly with the idea that Charlotte has her own issues to deal with and Bass needs to find his place in the world at this point in the show. Super excited to be writing for these two again! (eventually M - currently just language)





	1. Chapter 1

Finding Your Way

The battle had been raging in her head since she woke up late in the day that followed her almost disastrous decision to stop at that hell hole in Pottsboro. Two days of silence between her and Monroe meant the only thing she had to listen to as they rolled along was the debate between the kind and gentle voice of her father admonishing her, “I raised you better than that! He saved you. When someone helps you, you thank them”; and the shrill voice of her cold, distant and disinterested absentee mother – or well Rachel because mothers stuck around, and mothers found ways to love both of their children, and Rachel couldn’t be bothered to do either of those things. But ‘Mommy Issues’ or not, her judgmental voice was clear, “He should be dead! He’s the devil! He’s the reason Danny is dead.” 

So there was the great internal debate: thank the monster for saving her from physical and sexual abuse, torture, rape and what would surely be a horrifically painful death, or listen to her mother… 

Sighing Charlotte chose to push the voices away and asked, “Why are we driving this way?”

A raspy chuckle rising in his throat, Bass shook his head before responding, “I have to say of all the conversation starters I thought you might lead with, questioning my driving skills didn’t make the top ten.” Laughing more deeply he continued, “I’ll be honest, I’ll even break the time honored ‘man on a road trip’ stereotype and ask for directions if you tell me where we are going…” letting the sentence trail off, Bass looked at her beautiful, distrusting face and waited. When no words came, he shook his head and thought for a moment before going on, “Pottsboro was just north of Junction City, Kansas. It’s not a big city, or I assume it wasn’t a big city PB, so we are heading their first to see if we can trade some of the junk in this cart for supplies, then we will head west along route 70 toward Denver, because again… I don’t know where Miles is, but he’s not on the east coast, so going straight west seems like as good an option as any.”

Confused Charlotte looked at him and shook her head, “You don’t have a clue what you are doing – do you? How did you identify Junction City was the place we should head? Why do you assume it ‘wasn’t a big city PB?’ and what the heck is PB?” Then, as if realizing something clever or amazing, Charlotte added with fingers waving in air quotes, “And what kind of idiot tries to trade ‘some of the junk’ without inventorying the items we have to determine what we need and what is actually trade worthy?” 

“Gee, what a brilliant idea!” Bass looked at her and rolled his eyes before continuing, “So let me check, you’re suggesting that I’m an idiot for not stopping, in the middle of nowhere farmland, and pulling everything out of this scrap heap on wheels, so I examine the odds and ends secure in the knowledge that no war clans ever attack people mid-inventory.”

_____________

An hour passed before either spoke again. Bass figured anything was better than silent boredom. “PB is Post Blackout” then pausing for a moment Bass grinned at a memory before adding, “… and pre-blackout it used to be peanut butter – as in pb & j or peanut butter and jelly… my favorite lunch in elementary school.” Bass paused and waited for a response, but when it appeared she would not respond he tried to be consolatory, “You’re probably right about the whole Junction City thing. I have no clue how big it was then or is now. I’m just hoping for a little luck. The same way I keep hoping we stumble across an abandoned farm house so we can explore all the items we are lugging back there.”   
_____________

Next Up: What’s a Road Trip?


	2. What's a Road Trip?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up little pieces of the conversation leads to learning more about each other along the road.

Chapter 2: What’s a Road Trip?

As the morning wore on and a house didn’t materialize Bass attempted to read the landscape. Fields of waist high corn lined the left side of the weathered road, with an odd mixture of wheat and random corn stalks on the right. “Not much longer now.” He pronounced.

Confused Charlotte looked around at the boundless flat fields and unending road before asking, “Ok…? And how… I mean, what makes you think we are anywhere near anything on this ‘road trip’ as you call it? And why do you get that weird grin on your face when the phrase road trip comes up? You look like a demented teenage boy in his first whore house.”

Shocked, Bass sat in stunned silence for a few moments before repeating, “… a demented teenage boy in his first whore house? Do you have much experience with that look?”

“Don’t be an ass!” Charlotte growled. 

Nodding Bass responded, “Fine. I’ll ignore how you came by that phrase and simply point out that on our left are clearly maintained fields of corn that are about the right height for this time in the summer and on our right are wheat fields intermixed with random corn stalks, golden rod and giant purple creeping thistle weeds; so someone has been caring for the fields on the left, but probably doesn’t have the time or people necessary to also care for the fields on the right.”

Examining the fields closer, Charlotte had to concede that he was right. She wouldn’t admit that, but he was clearly correct. 

The wagon rolled on for another mile or more possibly, before Bass chuckled and replied, “I gotta laugh. You clearly would rather eat that goldenrod weed than admit I know something. You know neither Miles nor I are or were stupid, in over our heads – yes; unable to withstand your psychotic mother’s manipulations – absolutely; damaged by life… yeah that too; but we were never stupid, we were trying which is more than I can say for most people.” Quiet and reserved for long moments after that outpouring, Bass realized that Charlotte wasn’t likely to touch those comments. Figuring on lightening the mood some, Bass continued, “The grin on my face when I say the phrase ‘road trip’ comes from the memories I have from before the blackout. Road trips with my parents and sisters, road trips with my grandparents without my sisters, road trips with Miles in his prized mustang convertible; it was a thing. Friends or families would travel by car to vacation. Miles and I were returning from a road trip when the Blackout happened. We had been on leave and we were visiting these sorority girls we had met. Their campus was a little over 2 ½ hours from base and we spent the weekend camping with them. Camping is when you voluntarily sleep outside in a tent despite having a perfectly good home or hotel in which to sleep. Miles loved driving that car.” 

Bass paused for a moment before continuing, “When I was younger my grandparents would take me on road trips to explore National Parks. Sometimes it would just be the three of us, sometimes they would let Miles join us, but those were great trips. I loved the parks and seeing the animals living in their real habitats. My grandmother was a nature photographer. Her and my grandfather would travel everywhere and she would frequently display her work in museums in Chicago. I loved traveling with them; they had this great saying that they found on some sign, in some store… ‘It doesn’t matter how old you are, buying snacks for a road trip should always look like an unsupervised 9-year-old was given $100’ – God I loved them, I loved spending time with them – Miles and I both did.” 

A few more minutes passed and Bass’ smile faded a little before he continued, “My parents would take us on road trips too… to Disney one year, to Washington DC to see the monuments; to Cape Cod to play in the ocean… and they would pack up the car every summer and take us up to Door County Wisconsin to my grandparent’s farm. It was a long drive, and my sisters would drive me NUTS playing with their dolls and singing every Disney princess song they thought they knew, but looking back those are my favorite memories. I can still see my parents’ smiles and hear my father saying ‘Don’t make me pull this car over!’ while he tried to separate us with one arm stretched back from the front seat.” 

Bass drifted off into the memory from childhood and it wasn’t until the horses had veered off the road and began munching on the wild wheat that Charlotte interrupted his thoughts. “You have sisters?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters - One day... it's because each chapter in this story is likely going to be a small conversation. Having said that, Wednesday is likely my next writing day.


	3. You have Sisters?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello - sorry for the delay - I genuinely thought this would be up quicker. Hope you enjoy it - the end is a little grittier than my normal writings, but I look forward to hearing people's thoughts - B

Chapter 3 – "You have sisters?"

Bass hopped down from the buckboard and slowly approached the matched bays. Gently stroking the mane of the closer horse, Bass worked to modulate his breathing before he began to nudge them back onto the road. Once the cart was safely straightened from its prior lean, Bass unhooked the horses and let the horses graze before returning to the wagon. "Now's a great time for lunch…" Not waiting for a response, Bass moved to the back of the wagon and unlocked the door before rummaging to find a bucket and the water jugs he had filled earlier that morning in the river. Setting the two half full buckets out for the horses, Bass poured cups for he and Charlotte before going back to grab jerky and apples. Seeing her standing next to him, Bass added, "Grab the blanket and we can set out for a picnic."

"What?" Charlotte bit out confused, "… a picnic? Yeah, let's! It's a beautiful day, so sure the first thing I think we should do is picnic."

Groaning, "I'm so so sorry. I forgot you objected to lunch breaks based on the use of pleasant names." Grumbling Bass grabbed the blanket himself and started walking off up wind of the horses and across the road before deciding on the strongest line of sight.

Without moving Charlotte yelled, "Did you bring enough for me, or do I need to grab my own lunch?"

Guessing her words were a version of an apology, Bass decided to make it easier for her to sit, "Yes, my love. Of course I have arranged an assortment of delicacies to tempt your palette on this perfect, romantic day."

Looking at him, Charlotte quirked her head stunned. He was nuts. Full on insane. But she snorted at his words and walked toward the blanket.

They sat quietly for what felt like a long time and Charlotte was starting to wonder if he would say anything or if it was somehow her responsibility to restart the tentative peace between them. She wanted to make some sarcastic comment to prod him, but somehow it seemed wrong – his words earlier and his mood now told her silence was the better choice – so she waited.

Slicing the apple into chunks, Bass handed her one before talking again. "Cindy and Angela – my sisters… were Cindy and Angela. Cindy was 13 and Angela was 14 when Miles and I left for the Marines." Chuckling Bass seemed to get lost in a thought before he continued, "God, they loved him! They were obsessed with him, would fight over who could sit next to him; would spend hours picking out clothes to wear, doing their hair, and putting on makeup if they knew he was coming to dinner; it was super embarrassing for both Miles and I the obvious way they would try to flirt with him…"

In Charlotte's eyes his smile in this moment seemed to make him younger than she had imagined possible – he looked happy. "I'm having a hard time picturing anyone fighting over my grouch of an uncle."

"I'm having a hard time picturing anyone believing he is only your uncle." Bass muttered. When he realized she hadn't heard him but might have been about to ask what he said, Bass continued, "Miles had that that whole brooding thing going on that was super appealing to girls back then. I would give him such a hard time about them and which one he would eventually marry…"

Charlotte listened as his words drifted off. He clearly loved them a great deal. He loved them like she loved her brother – and thinking of Danny made her angry and made her want to lash out at him. "And did some crazy despot's army kill them or were they just so embarrassed they are in hiding?"

With a sheet white complexion, Bass looked like he might vomit. Saying nothing Bass stood, pocketed his knife and yanked at the blanket from underneath her; before a stunned Charlotte watched him storm off rolling the blanket into a ball and heading toward the wagon. She watched as he tossed it onto the bench seat and headed to reattach the horses to the leads before Charlotte started to wonder if he might leave her there and she scurried off the ground and toward the cart. She scampered up the wagon wheel and was barely seated before she was jerked forward with the motion of the horses responding to the crack of the leads.

An hour had passed and Charlotte was thinking that she was clearly missing something with this reaction when Bass spoke, "They were killed; my sisters and my parents were killed a few years after I joined the marines. I guy got drunk and drove a car – which I know means nothing to you – but he drove his car straight into their car as they were coming home from a movie. It was the single worst day of my life, until my wife died giving birth to my daughter about a year after the blackout. Yeah so that is my top 4: knowing that all the people I tried to protect in my city died in a nuclear attack that your self-righteous mother helped make happen; waking up to Miles – my best friend – with a gun pointed at me; my entire family dying, and opening myself up again only to have my family die again." His voice had been rising as he lashed out, but now Bass was yelling, "Yeah Charlotte, I'm the devil. Your parents created a blackout that destroyed a planet and killed likely two thirds of nearly 7 ½ billion person population; and your uncle – my best friend – created an army and together we attempted to protect people and restore order, but everything is entirely my fault."

Next Chapter: The contents of the wagon


	4. The Contents of the Wagon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chance to rest and from the travel for the night and to discover what's in the wagon. Thanks for reading and I appreciate the comments and kudos left. - B

As Bass had anticipated, it was not long before a house came into view.   As they drew closer, Bass bit out, “We will ask if it would be ok to park on their land for the night, check the contents of the back and rest our horses.   Try being pleasant… and because we need a cover, you will be my wife and we are traveling to see your parents.”

Charlotte sat stunned.   His wife!  Was he kidding?  She was still trying to process how to respond almost an hour later, as the sun was moving deep toward the horizon, when they pulled to a stop at the end of the lane and were greeted by a man with a shotgun and a woman wearing an apron and drying a dish. 

“Whatever you’re selling we don’t need or want it, and we got nothing to sell.” The man called out from the wrap around porch.  

In that moment Charlotte just knew, and instead of waiting for Monroe to respond she called out, “I’m sorry sir.  My dad and I aren’t selling anything or buying, we were just looking for a safe place to rest for the night.    We’ve been on the road for a while now and my dad doesn’t feel comfortable sleeping and letting me do my turn as lookout, and well as you can imagine – a man his age really can’t go too many days without sleep before he starts to lose focus and I need him to be sharp to help protect me and, so we can keep making our way toward Uncle Stu – that’s his lover.   Stu moved out to Denver ahead of us now that my mother is dead and daddy here doesn’t need to hide his true self...”

Bass was truly speechless, what a little psycho.   Shaking his head, Bass choked out “We don’t mean to cause a problem.   We are just looking for a safe place to rest.”

The wife laid a hand on the farmer’s arm.   He looked at her and seemed to resign himself before saying, “You’re welcome to pull your wagon out back and let those horses loose in the corral.  There is water and hay laid out for our mounts that should be enough.”

After patting her husband’s shoulder, the wife added, “You and your daughter can join us for dinner; and you are welcome to the guest room while your daughter can share a room with our daughter tonight.”

Not waiting for Bass to respond, Charlotte hopped down and moved toward the couple, as she said, “Thank you!  It would be wonderful to sleep inside tonight!   And I could help in the kitchen.”

Bass hoped that Charlotte had not taken after her mother in the cooking department, but he doubted that she had any skills in that department.   Resigning himself to the situation Bass followed the farmer out back and welcomed the help to release the horses before wiping them down and setting them to graze.    Bass thought for a moment before nodding and adding, “It’s real kind of you to help us out.”

The man nodded and simply said, “Come inside as soon as you are ready and join us for dinner.”

 

* * *

 

Dinner had been wonderful.   They had learned that the family was the Cobbs, and they had 5 children, a girl 18; a pair of twin boys that were 16, another boy that was 12 and an adorable grinning 5 year old girl that Bass thought he might have lost himself to her kindness.   Mrs. Cobb was an excellent cook, but the reality was Bass was still annoyed with Charlotte an hour later when he headed out back to the wagon.  Figuring the best way to blow off steam after the little minx screwed with him was to unpack and repack the wagon, Bass laid out blankets and started unloading and sorting items. 

The previous owners of the wagon didn’t seem to have a system for the items inside, but Bass dove into the work.    On the closest blanket he put out food stores - jars of beans; dried fruits and jars of fruit preserves; a crate with potatoes, onions, garlic, and root vegetables; plus jars of carrots and green beans; canvas bags of flour, corn meal, sugar, coffee and quinoa; 3 slabs of bacon, and 2 tins of salt.  Not a bad assortment.   On the adjoining blanket were the cast iron skillet, dutch oven, kettle, water jugs, ladle, whetstone, flint & spark rocks, knives, bullets, 2 rifles and 4 hand guns, gun powder, plates, forks, spoons, rope, and metal stakes.   The china seemed odd, but might provide a nice trading option.

As he dug in deeper, Bass found a bag of surgical instruments, liniments, dried herbs, bandage strips, washboard, soap, bees wax candles, spyglass, scissors, needles, pins, thread, and a steel rod.  Several more blankets of varying thickness and a stack of towels were with the medical supplies; as well as four sleeping bags.    Toward the back he found replacement axles, linchpins, spokes, hoe, shovel, hammer, screw drivers, nails and several decades’ old maps.   Plus wedged in a side corner was a harmonica that actually worked behind a pile of books.   Bass took a few moments to fool around playing a few notes before he looked over the titles of the books.    To say the topics ran the spectrum would be an understatement, but when you found books that were in decent condition you didn’t get picky.  The pile included Lord of the Rings and Lord of the Flies; a more than 800 page copy of the Once and Future King, and what was likely a romance – Roman Fever by Edith Wharton.   There was a copy of Game of Thrones and a stack of romance novels that seemed to cover English regency, cowboys and athletes.   The books were so random Bass couldn’t figure it out beyond assuming that just grabbed anything that looked to be in good condition.      

The clothes were a huge find and put a skip in his step.   There were jeans – he would need a belt to make them work, but there was one of those as well.  Two pairs of boots that looked about ½ a size too large, but would be perfect, wool socks, flannel shirts of various sizes and other assorted men’s and women’s clothes.  There were coats of varying weights which would take them through the fall, into the winter, and protect them during the rain of spring.  

But it was the final carpet bag that he pulled off of a hook in the very back that had him laughing and plotting… putting the bag aside, Bass reorganized and reloaded the wagon before locking it up.   Carrying the weekender sized bag with him over one shoulder and holding a China serving platter Bass headed toward the house with a stupid, happy grin and a definite spring in his step.    As he entered the back door, Bass held out the platter to Mrs. Cobb and genuinely offered, “Thank you, for a safe place to stay for the night and for a wonderful meal.   If it’s ok, I would love to head to bed.”  Then holding up the bag with a grin he added, “I’m positive I will sleep well tonight.”

 

Next up: What’s in the bag?


	5. What's in the Bag?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this! Thanks to my favorite online shop Zulily for the ideas... I look forward to hearing your thoughts. - B

Bass couldn’t be certain if it was his plan or the actual mattress, but as he sat he figured this had to be the most comfortable bed he had been on since Philadelphia.   Looking back at the locked door, Bass shook out the items onto the quilt.   None of the items would fit quite right… both in size and with Charlotte’s personality.  The dresses appeared to be a half size or so larger particularly in the chest, which would likely result in exposing the undergarments.  The undergarments, for using the word underwear seemed inappropriate based on what he was holding, appeared uncomfortable and would clearly be just a bit too tight.   With an evil grin, Bass imagined how Charlotte, in any of these, would accentuate why C cups were not meant for a demi cup bra that looks to run at a B size.    Bass was mystified at where those two would have gotten these items, but he could make them work.   

Each item was examined in the candle light before Bass made his selections and replaced them in the bag before he neatly folder the remaining dress and underthings and placing them in his rucksack for a future date.   He had included a few choices, but none would be considered acceptable to her when she saw them in the morning.  Rising, Bass moved toward the door and once in the hall he debated, go in her room and replace her items with these or head back to the kitchen and ask Mrs. Cobb to swap out the items.   Before he could make a decision the sound of footsteps were heard closing in up the stairs.    

Seconds later the tired looking woman smiled and said, “Do you need something? Can I help you?”

With a grin that had gotten him out of as much trouble as it had gotten him into, Bass held up the carpet bag,  “I was just coming down to find you.   I didn’t want to knock, in case the girls are asleep, but I wanted my Charlotte to have her bag and I was hoping to collect her dirty clothes so I could wash them in the morning before we continue on our travels.”

Reaching out to take the offered bag, Mrs. Cobb bestowed a wide smile, “You are such a wonderful father!  So caring for your girl; I know my daughter offered her a night dress and I already collected her clothes and undergarments.   I actually just finished hanging them near the fire – told her I would drop them to her in the morning, but if you have her bag, I will just leave this at the foot of her trundle.”

Nodding Bass handed over the bag and stepped aside,  “You and your husband are really wonderful.   Thank you for everything.”   She patted his arm and Bass watched as she moved past him and opened the door just down the hall, on the opposite side.   

When she stepped back out a few moments later he heard her whisper, “Sound asleep”, before turning and continuing to her own room.   Grinning Bass turned and stepped back into his room shutting the door softly.   He would sleep well tonight and in the morning sneak down and bundle up her clothes, so she would only have the options he had given her in the bag.

 

* * *

 

Morning came late for Charlotte and as she rolled over the young brunette was already almost half out the door.   “Your father had my mother leave your bag with a change of clothes at the foot of the bed.  Take your time, but know that my brothers will eat everything if you don’t come down to breakfast.”

Rising to a sitting position, Charlotte looked at the carpet bag and smiled.   Bass must have finished the inventory and found clothes.  It would be great to wear some ‘new to her’ clothes.   Unzipping the bag, Charlotte started pulling out the contents.   As she examined the items, her face flushed and she found herself increasingly more uncomfortable.    Where the hell had he found these items; I mean clearly they had been in the wagon, but why would the two they had taken the wagon from have these.    They smelled fresh, looked clean, but Bass was insane if he thought she would wear any of these things.   She held up the first of two soft cotton gingham dresses, a worn Kelly green, before discarding it back into the empty bag and pressing the second, a cherry red soft cotton dress to her frame.   They both featured V necklines, had flared ¾ length skirts, a broad black sash tied in a bow accented the waist of this one and the skirt included large fist and hand sized embroidered fabric flowers in a pattern, with a side zip fastening.   She wasn’t thrilled, but it was better than any of the other options she would have to choose from.     Instead of the cotton boy shorts she preferred, she had three, ridiculous items options – none of which were happening.   The first was champagne pink embroidered mesh-bodice chemise with spaghetti tie straps and a floral applique in a v pattern that extended to provide what Charlotte had to believe was the illusion of modesty at the apex of her thighs overlapping slightly as the mid-thigh skirt transitioned to a shimmery material; the second was a fire engine red bow-accent frilly bib teddy with attached satin panties.  The flouncy mesh ruffles provided neither support nor coverage.  In contrast, what appeared to be a hand dyed leather bustier, with matching thong looked sturdy enough to provide support, but would be uncomfortably tight – particularly with hours of travel ahead today on the road.  The final item was the most ridiculous, a black choker-collar open work bralette with spiderweb designed lace, black garters with silk stockings that had a pronounced seem up the back, and open-back black lace string bikini bottoms to coordinate.   Bass was insane if he thought she would want to wear any of this, and even more insane if he thought she would back away from the challenge.   He was testing her and she was no coward.  

 

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later Charlotte stepped into the kitchen wearing the red dress, and though the black seemed stockings looked a little ridiculous with her hiking boots, Bass had to say this was the highlight of his life.   The feeling was like being transported back in time to the first time he stood in a front hall waiting for a prom date to come down, knowing he would be making every move he knew to find out the color of her panties – of course in this situation, if she was wearing those stockings then he knew the color and the mental picture was making him uncomfortably hard.

 

Next up: Marine Humor


	6. Marine Humor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, it was a busy week; but I promise to write more again soo, and I am always so thankful for any comments! - B

Five hours had come and gone since they had left and in that time what was supposed to have been a few minutes of entertainment – a joke, had become his nightmare.   Bass could not remember being this hard for this long… ever.   Charlotte in that outfit… knowing what was under that dress was more effective than any blue pill that those commercials long ago used to warn “seek a doctor if your hard-on lasts for more than 4 hours”.   God help him, Bass never imagined she would just sit there.   He figured, if she put the clothes on at all, she would have him pull over after they had driven over the rise and he would have had his fun and shown who was in charge.   But NO, Charlotte was a Matheson with a capital M!   She had sat through breakfast accepting the compliments of the family and the bug eyed drool of those teen boys.   Her broad smile and wave as they drove off and humming had persisted for the first two hours, when he finally decided to give the horses a break and give her an opening to change.    Bass had hopped down, unhooked the horses and walked away into the field to address the blatantly obvious problem; he had felt like a 16 year old sneaking off to relieve himself, but what other choice did he have?   And what was he greeted by when he returned, Charlotte in her jeans and tank – NO, of course not.   Charlotte being determined to kill him, not only still had the dress and undergarments on, but she had laid out a blanket, arranged food and waved to him like some deranged lover on a romantic picnic!  When he growled he wasn’t hungry, she pouted – Charlotte actually POUTED like she had planned for this special moment for them!  Bass had simply grabbed some jerky and gnawed on it while he re-hooked the horses to the wagon.    When she held out her hand to have him help her up onto the seat, like she had earlier in the day, Bass had instead grabbed her by the waist and tossed her up before pushing past her and snapping the reins.  And that had been 2 hours ago, two long, unending, sexually torturous hours of travel, that – if pressed – Bass would have to say was all because he thought he could get back at her for the father comment.

Admitting defeat, Bass searched for something to say and settled on needling her about the clothes.  “You look like one of those pin up models from the 50’s that Miles and my Marine general used to keep in his office.    I never understood the appeal until now.   I used to wonder how a man born in the 1960’s came to the decision that framing pin up posters from before he was born as art… Miles used to mutter that a Playboy centerfold outdid those clothed pictures any day, but now I get it.”

Chuckling Charlotte took a deep sigh before admitting, “Thank God you broke!”  Before demanding, “Now PULL OVER, so I can get out of this dress.”

Bass did as he was told, laughing the entire way at the battle of wills that she had been determined to win.    As the wagon pulled to the side, Charlotte hopped down before reaching back up and grabbing a rucksack that he had not noticed before.    As she stormed off into the wheat field, Charlotte yelled back, “And while I’m gone you might want to address that fence post, because I will not be helping you with it.”

Not wanting to lose a second time, Bass called out, “If I take care of my cock, it will be to the thoughts of you in that dress and stockings… so you are helping me… trust me that visual helps a whole lot!”

“GROSS!” Charlotte screamed, as she moved further into the field.

 

* * *

 

Later that evening, after settling into a boarding house in Junction City, Charlotte stared up at the ceiling searching for something to say.   Today had been too quiet; she’d had fun besting him, but the long hours of silence had taken their toll.   Knowing he was just across the room in the other bed, she asked, “You said Miles liked Playboy – that’s not surprising, Danny had found a few hidden in the house in Wisconsin and had certainly found a use for them.  What else did you two find funny back then?  Why did you join the Marines?  You were best friends… tell me about Miles?”

It was a long time before he responded, but he sounded younger somehow when he spoke.  “We were five when we met in Kindergarten, and… I think… Miles knew even then that he would be a Marine.  I wanted to be a football player or a doctor.   Miles’ mom used to tell this totally embarrassing story about how she caught me playing doctor with the neighbor girl at six while Miles set up his GI Joes for an offensive.  Which was crazy, because Miles was supposed be the look out while I got my turn; like I did for him, but the ass couldn’t be bothered to stay focused.”

Charlotte thought about that for a long while and smiled at the idea of her uncle and Monroe as little boys – so innocent, and yet not really.

As Charlotte pondered the glimpse into the past, Bass continued.   “As to what we found funny… well, there were these things called memes.  They were pictures with funny captions on them.    When we were in high school, before we joined we each had our favorite meme on our bedroom walls.”   Bass closed his eyes for a moment, transporting himself back to those days – to bouncing between those rooms and to the argument Miles’ parents had about his ‘girly’ posters on the back of his closet doors.  “The one in my room was a picture of a massive explosion and across the middle in bold, black letters it said, ‘if everything is exploding around you, that’s probably us’.    At fifteen I had found that and thought it was funny, in the way that only a person who had never seen war, or destruction or death could find funny.”   

Bass had paused for a long time after admitting that information.    Charlotte didn’t want to let him descend into crazy, so she asked, “And what did the poster in Miles’ room say?”

Redirected Bass continued the story, “Miles had one that showed a bullet ridden wall and a massive pile of rubble and it said ‘when it absolutely, positively has to be destroyed overnight’.   Miles always had that… really off sense of humor.   Not everybody could be a Marine.  The saying was ‘the few, the proud…’ and Miles, he loved the Marines.  It had been his life goal forever.   I could have gone to college, had a scholarship to play tight end, but I couldn’t picture drinking at frat parties and playing football without Miles and he couldn’t get in to college – didn’t care about getting to go to college.   Funny thing was once we joined, we both really loved it.   We were super proud when we finished basic, and… well girls love Marine dress blues!”  Bass paused as he listened to Charlotte’s slowed breathing.   That had clearly been the weirdest bedtime story he had ever told anyone. 


	7. Read to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! 
> 
> I really had fun writing this chapter, so I truly hope you all enjoy it! I do include some text from the book "Know Me Well: A Wishful Novel", by Kait Nolan - which I am listening to right now on my audible app during my commutes. I heard what she had written in one scene today and it seemed to fit, well I will let you see why I think it fits...
> 
> Thank you for the reviews and support! It means a lot. - B

The decision to travel across Route 70 to Route 287 in Colorado near Denver before heading south to take them toward Texas and eventually to Miles meant they would spend over two months together.   They had been averaging 20 maybe 25 miles a day in travel, but the route Bass had chosen was straight, flat and wouldn’t take them into larger cities that might result in issues.   But what Charlotte was discovering was that it also meant there were miles and miles, and days and days of just her and Bass… and when over the course of this trip had he gone from Monroe to Bass.   It had been a week since he had saved her; and during that time she had learned that life wasn’t so very black and white.   The stories of Miles and Bass as children… and as adults continued to be enlightening.   She supposed that her Dad angel had won out.   Bass hadn’t wanted her father or her brother dead.   That damn Dad angel kept telling her that if Bass was responsible for the worst thing done in his name, then he and her mother were responsible for the death of Bass’ wife and child, which really sucked because now he was just like the rest of them – he was human.   Actually he was something more than human, because he had made her laugh, and more than once!    

Charlotte reached into her pack and thought about the detour they had taken two days ago and the amazing joy it was bringing her… would continue to bring her…

* * *

\- Mid-day 2 days earlier –

They had been riding since dawn and Charlotte was starting to drift off when she felt a steely arm rope around her middle, and the wagon turn off the main road.  From her now wide awake position plastered against his muscled torso, she startled and then pushed out of his grip.

“Relax!” Bass griped.  “I was turning the wagon and you were nodding off, I suppose I could have let you fall off the seat and onto the ground, but that – somehow – just didn’t feel quite right.”

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head and smirked, “Yeah, super kind of you to save me, but I was awake.”

Chuckling Bass replied, “God, you are stubborn!  I keep saving you and not once has it resulted, in even a small thank you – forget actual gratitude.”

Sputtering Charlotte smacked the back of his head, “Are you kidding me?  Do me a favor, don’t veer off the road and I won’t be in danger of falling.   And why are we getting off the road mid-day?  The horses should still be ok for a while longer and unless you are too old and don’t have the stamina to keep going…?”

“I… ah…WHAT?  Don’t!  You have no idea!” Charlotte was giggling as Bass ramped up his indignation, “I have forgotten more about what to do with a woman than any of your post-blackout boy toys will ever know and you would collapse from the pleasure of being with me!”

When his rant paused, Charlotte snorted a full laugh before retorting, “Just tell me where we are going.”

Pushing past his embarrassment, Bass began to explain as the cart moved toward an array of buildings.  “I saw a faded sign that was advertising an ‘OU  ET   ALL  C M N  SO  ’ and thought we might take a chance.”

Confused she looked at Bass and interrupted to ask, “What the hell is an ‘Ou Et all c-m-n so’?”

“When you can see the spaces to know where the missing letters are, you get a pretty good idea that it was an Outlet Mall Coming Soon.   Before the blackout, they used to build these things in the weirdest places and nowhere near much of anything.   I also saw a weathered sign for a Great Wolf Lodge Opening in the ‘Fall of 2013’, so my best guess is that this was going to be a destination vacation spot for middle America and if the stores weren’t open yet, they may have some stock that wasn’t ransacked over the years because it is so far out.”   Bass looked quite pleased with his explanation and 45 minutes later when he had pried his way into a Barnes and Noble Booksellers that had boxes and boxes of unopened books stacked everywhere on tables, Charlotte had to hand it to him that this was an excellent find.    He had grabbed a stack of blank journals, a pile of Civil War history and biography books, and a number of books on holistic healing, including one called Plant Cures.   Charlotte had been less willing to share her finds.    She had grabbed a variety of children’s books, in case they ran into another family along the way; she had gotten a few different books titled Star Wars thinking Aaron would love them, but the books she had selected for herself were safely stowed in a box, and she was not sharing.   Before they had finally departed they had also looted a fabric store and grabbed two new pairs of hiking boots for herself, while Bass grabbed ones for him and Miles.

* * *

\- present day –

Charlotte fingered the spine of her book.   She really wanted to take it out and read it.   She had reached a really great point last night when she had to stow it away, as Bass woke for his turn at watch.

Rolling his eyes, Bass muttered, “Go ahead!  I know that box of yours is full of romance novels.   Take out whichever one you started with and entertain us, because fields and fields of fields is getting really, really boring.   Just tell me the title and a little about the main characters before you pick up wherever you are.   If I enjoy it enough, I will borrow it and read the part I missed.”

Stunned Charlotte sat immobile for a few moments before taking up the challenge – if he was willing to listen, she was fine with reading.   “It’s called Know Me Well: A Wishful Novel, by Kait Nolan and it is about a woman who is strong and doesn’t want to depend on anyone…”

Cutting in Bass laughed, “So you are the heroine?”

Sighing she said, “Do you want the background or not?”  When he said nothing, she continued, “Anyway, she is in love with the older brother of a childhood friend, but she is also mad at him because he joined the Marines and left her behind… there wasn’t anything between them then, but last night when you woke up to relieve me, I had just gotten to the part of the book where they were going to well… do it!”

Nodding Bass uttered, “So you are reading a book about an independent, headstrong woman and a former marine… Please by all means, pick up where you left off.”

Ignoring him, Charlotte reached into the bag and opened the book.   With her most sultry voice she began, “… _he slipped his arms around her waist.  You are really good for my ego.   Despite the pounding in his head Liam dipped his head for a languid kiss_ …”

Bass listened to her gravelly voice as she read.   It reminded him of an actress on a TV show that he and Miles had enjoyed binging when they were home.   When Charlotte read the line, “ _he dreamed of being with her for so long, he wanted to relish it_ …” Bass had started to wonder when it was that he had started fantasizing about being with Charlotte…?   When he heard her say, “… _through the narrow gap where he expected skin, he saw a row of laces, intrigued he spread the back of the dress and felt his mouth go dry. they were corset laces, black satin ribbons running the length of her spine from beneath her shoulder blades to her waist…”_

“OK! That is enough for now!  I will just read it to myself when you are done.” Bass hissed uncomfortably.   The text was far too close to his day dreams of what he wanted to do to her in that dress, so he could see the undergarments he had found against her skin.


	8. The Closer We Get

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello - so I am offering another update! I will admit this was is exposition heavy, but in order to move the story where I need it to go, it had to be done and I kinda like how it turned out, so I am hoping you will like it, too! I will be looking to get the next chapter up a lot quicker, mostly because I have today off and can do some writing. Thanks for all the support and for reading and commenting - B

 

After that first afternoon that Charlotte had shared her reading material aloud, it had led from one book to the next and then on to a third. Bass had to wonder if their shared reading material was impacting her the way it impacted him, because he felt like a horny teen again and he was getting way to friendly with his hand during their nights under the stars. And it wasn't just that he wanted her – though he would have to have been dead 6 months before his lust for her would dissipate. No, it was that he was sleeping; actual, full, restful sleeping – not even nightmares. Bass wanted to kick himself, because someone should be staying awake and pulling guard duty, but each of the last three nights was the same exact scene – they would finish eating and he would make and excuse to 'check the perimeter' which was really his moment to let off a little Charlotte induced steam. By the time he had returned, she was in her sleeping bag, reading by the fire light, in between the fire and the wagon, and his bed roll was set up an increasingly greater distance away. It was a routine, he would laugh and say, "Not a chance, sweetheart!" and then move his things to between the fire and the wagon as well. What was new, and he was splitting the blame between the doused fire and the common reading material, was that each morning he would wake to find Charlotte cuddled into crook of his neck. And those moments of her using him as a pillow had resulted, at least in his case, in mornings of them ignoring each other while she read and he wondered what part of the story was being explored. Bass was particularly hoping Charlotte was thinking of him as the hero of the story the same way he visualized her as the heroine, because that would mean... well he wasn't sure what that would mean, but he wanted to find out.

Bass had quickly come to realize he needed a break from his traveling companion or he would likely find himself rolling on top of her one morning, and he was pretty confident that was the perfect way to guarantee Miles would put a bullet in his head. So later that afternoon, when he saw the guard tower and recognized who they had stumbled across, Bass looked at her for a few moments before making his final decision, "The first time the world fell apart was when the Roman Empire fell. Aaron might have included that in your lessons, but I learned about it in school."

Since that had been his first words to her all day, Charlotte was confused and simply said, "Random, but ok… yes Aaron mentioned the fall of the Roman Empire, and the Dark ages and the Industrial Revolution. It all seemed useless to me, but he covered it."

Offended Bass interrupted her, "History is never useless!" The look she gave him indicated that she might have found many of Aaron's lessons 'less than applicable' to everyday life, but he persisted in trying to provide her context for what was coming. "Anyway, what happened was the Catholic Church rose to power, I say this because people do turn to religion when the world is crashing down around them, and one thing I remember from my years at the head of the Republic was that, there was this place in the Plains nation called the Catholic Campus Center, in Hays, Kansas, and we appear to have stumbled into their territory."

As he concluded his explanation, Charlotte's eyes followed the direction his hand was indicating. Noticing the guards she asked, "Are we going to have an issue? I mean, I am assuming they hate you too…"

Groaning, Bass paused the cart, "No, they don't hate me too. Shockingly enough, we had good relations with the leadership. A delegation of church leaders in Philadelphia used to communicate with them, Miles and I would get briefings. Toward the very end the only person I trusted was one of the local priests. He used to say…", but Bass paused seeing Charlotte's 'get to the point' look. Charging ahead, "I was thinking we could rest safely… there… I mean on the campus. It's the one place I would feel safe having separate rooms. The horses need rest, and few days off the road might be good for both of us…". Then with a sweep of his arm toward her, "Oh, and… well, you are going to need to put the book away."

The giggle that broke out of Charlotte surprised him, but her words had him sputtering, "Would we have to hide all the books? Even that one you dog eared and then stole from me?" Bass had taken real pleasure in one book in particular. Charlotte agreed it was incredible, but for whatever reason _Cowgirl Up and Ride_ the third book in a series by Lorelei James had disappeared into his bag and she had caught him rereading it several times.

Grumbling Bass snapped the reins before asking, "So are we getting off the road and resting or not?"

Nodding Charlotte decided to give him a break on this, "Yes! I would love to stop and if you think it is safe a few days off the road would do me a lot of good."

As they exited route 70 and passed the regional guard wearing the insignia Bass recognized as the army of the Catholic Church he paused long enough to introduce himself and Charlotte. She had been shocked when he had used their actual names, particularly hers – but he had said that they had had regular and positive relations with the leadership of this area, so maybe that was why. She had been even more surprised when the chief guard had not only welcomed them, but had said he would send a rider ahead to request a meeting for them with the Bishop and arrange for housing. By the time they had pulled in front of St. Joseph's on the campus center there was a delegation waiting for them on the steps. Charlotte was surprised to see Bass' deference. He quickly moved to get off the wagon and greet each of the Franciscan Friars waiting, but she was mystified when they returned his warm greeting and offered him sympathy at the destruction of Philadelphia. Belligerently, she started to question Bass when he asked if there was someone to take her to their accommodations while he spoke with one of them for few moments, but something about the way he asked indicated this wasn't about her; so she watched as Bass followed a priest into church, before taking the reins of the cart and following the woman in blue robes across the green to a small house.

Having parked the cart alongside of the house and stabled the horses in a converted garage, Charlotte moved to examine the house. A pair of cats followed her from the horse barn through a flap door in the kitchen, as she entered, but quickly disappeared into another room. The home was incredibly well cared for; with a functional kitchen – not that she would know what to do in here; and a living room that ran the length of the side of the house and had a large fire place with stacked wood, built in book cases filled with texts on history, medicine and religion and well maintained, comfortable looking furniture. There was also a bedroom on the first floor and a set of stairs that led to an open second floor. It was in that attic bedroom she found her slice of paradise. A large 4 poster bed draped with mosquito netting was covered with fluffy looking bedding. The walls had faded wallpaper with tiny rows of single rosebuds, and next to the half wall near the stairs was a tall back, cream colored chair and ottoman that felt so very soft to the touch. Rays of light from the setting sun shone through a bumped out window and in the corner of the window seat the fluffier of the two cats had curled up for a nap. Moving toward the view, Charlotte took up the spot opposite the cat and leaned into the window. When Puffball stretched before repositioning herself onto Charlotte's lap, she stretched out her legs and let her mind wander, watching the people come and go across the common.

* * *

It had been more than an hour before Charlotte spied Bass walking across the green. He looked younger, lighter, less weighed down by life in the dying light and glow of the lantern posts. For a moment she wondered what it might be like to stay here, to feel safe… normal. As he got closer, she noticed he carried a basket of, what she would guess was food and Charlotte nearly dumped the cat on the floor to get down the stairs and see what he was bringing to eat.

* * *

Bass crossed the green feeling better than he had in years. It had been a comfort to find Father Brad here, alive and safe. He had learned the priest had been visiting Albany when the bombs had dropped on Philadelphia and Atlanta, knowing he couldn't return to his home parish, Father Brad had explained he had come here and had warned the leadership of the strange group that was likely responsible for the bombings. When Bass had heard those words he had nearly cried, leave it to a priest to just know he loved his city far too much to destroy it. The whole conversation had made him feel better and had led to him asking for forgiveness for so much, for all the things that had gone wrong. It had taken a while, in fairness he probably could have kept going all night, but Brad had suggested they 'group' the sins together so they might get a chance to eat dinner before next week. After, Bass had been asked to meet with the senior leadership the next morning to discuss the "problem of the New American government" and been given a basket of warm bread, meats and cheese to take to Charlotte for dinner. There was a group of older children playing stick ball on the green, and he paused to watch for a few moments before continuing toward the impeccably well maintained, white washed craftsman that they had indicated he and Charlotte would be staying in during their visit. It was such a strange moment of normalcy that when Charlotte threw open the door to greet… most likely to greet the basket of food, he said, "Hi, honey. I'm home! Did you miss me?"

* * *

Next up: Chapter 9: A Vacation From Real


	9. A Vacation From Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all - hopefully you will enjoy this next installment. I love hearing comments and thank everyone for reading and the Kudos as well! - B

By the morning of the third day they had settled into a routine.   Bass had taken the downstairs bedroom, in as much as she had claimed the upstairs as her sanctuary and had deposited his things into the simple first floor room before he had even returned.  Each morning he would wake up before her, make breakfast and leave.   She would watch him returning across the green an hour later and meet him on the front porch with cups of hot herbal tea for them both.   In the evening they would take turns making dinner and then sit outside reading quietly.   They had shared noontime meals with the leadership and she had learned quite a lot.   She heard stories about Miles and Bass from a few different perspectives and many of them were surprisingly positive.   There seemed to be a value placed on intentions and the people of the Campus clearly lived the virtue of forgiveness.   They talked about the makeup of their society; the communal farms, the military, even schools.   And after the meals, she and Bass would walk.   It had evolved naturally, they were returning from the lunch on the first day and they both just stopped at the reflection pool and sat on a stone bench under the row of trees.  They didn’t talk, but Charlotte found herself enjoying it when he would point out group of little kids playing or an old couple walking and holding hands, and she discovered they laughed at the same moments.  

Earlier today, while they walked, Bass had taken her hand to stop her and point out a little girl.  She looked to be about 5 years old, and she was wearing a rust colored dress with a tulle skirt and a weathered brown leather bomber jacket.   The girl’s long blonde hair glistened in the sun light and she had the biggest smile, as she carried a tiny tiger striped kitten on her shoulder and softly talked to the little fur ball.   “She reminds me of you.”  Bass had explained.   And it was in that moment, that small little moment of him holding her hand and watching this small, innocent little girl play with her kitten, that Charlotte wondered if they could just stay here – disappear into this world.  

Just barely audibly, she whispered, “What do you think it would be like?  If the blackout had never happened; or if Miles hadn’t left and the Republic hadn’t gone off the rails; or if I had appreciated the quiet life in Wisconsin and married one of those boys I grew up with?”  pausing for a long time she added, “Or if we just never left here?  Stayed in that little house of ours and made a life…”.  

For a long time after Bass sat pondering her questions.  They watches as the little girl was scooped up by a man, likely her father.   Bass grinned when the blonde man plunked a finger against her nose, and saw her giggle and cuddle her kitten into her chest.   “This place is everything I’ve never gotten to have and nothing I deserve; but in answer to your questions:   If the Blackout had never happened, I would have stayed a Marine – probably still be one now, if I wasn’t dead.  Miles and I would have kept visiting you, for as long as Ben didn’t find out about the affair between your mother and Miles; and he and I would have spent our visits chasing away over eager teenaged boys and making sure you were still a virgin.  As to Miles not abandoning me…”  Bass stopped talking and Charlotte became restless wondering if he would continue, but eventually he parted his lips and said, “… well I can’t speak to that.   What I can say is that you were never meant for the quiet life.  You are too bright and have too much spirit to marry some Wisconsin farm boy and let’s be honest; you CAN’T spend your days in the kitchen.  It’s just not fair to anybody.” 

Smacking his shoulder, Charlotte leaned in to him and redirected his attention to a pair of laughing tumbling boys across the green and replied, “After listening to all of the stories since we have been together, I feel like those two could have been you and Miles as children.”   She looked up just in time to see him nod as the smile spread across his face.   

Pulling her closer into his arms Bass dared to ask, “Would you really want that?  To stay here and have children; to be normal…”

When his words drifted off Charlotte looked up before saying, “I’m too young to feel this old.   I don’t know if I want quiet or simple or whatever; or if I just want to be someone’s priority instead of an after-thought; but I think I could be a good mom.   I’d never choose one child over another; I would never walk away from them.   I’d read them bedtime stories and do my best to cook them food they could eat.   I’d remember every birthday and every holiday.  We could have kittens to play with…” and then, with a dazed look and a wide grin she added, “I’d like the chance to try… someday…”.

And that was when he had said it, “Let’s go home.”   She hadn’t argued and she didn’t fight that he continued to hold her hand as they walked, something had shifted and it just felt right to accept in instead of fighting it, because a part of her wanted that little house on the green to be home.    Maybe she even wanted it to be their home.   And all that was what had gotten her here; standing in her room, hours later, playing dress up before dinner.   All of those ridiculous undergarments and those dresses strewn across the bed, as she looked in the full length mirror on the inside door of the armoire trying to decide what to wear; trying to decide what she would want him to see when he removed the dress later in the evening.   And that was just it, she knew… just knew that she would be inviting Bass to join her up here tonight.


	10. "And What If I Did Love You?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay. Thank you for reading and I appreciate the comments and support. I truly hope you enjoy this chapter.

Bass turned from the stew he was stirring at the sound of the foot falls descending the steps.   But it was the unexpected sight of Charlotte in a dress, one of the dresses from the wagon that caused him to gasp and drop the spoon onto the floor.    The deep navy A-line swing dress hugged, what Bass would describe as a truly impressive bust.  A thin red grosgrain ribbon with a small bow broke up the crepe body as the skirt flared out and mirrored the color of the floral-embroidered mesh yoke and short ruffle sleeves with decorative navy trim lining the edging.   It was breath-taking and it took him just a few minutes too long to speak, he saw her start to withdraw, step back with hesitance at the idea he had not spoken.   Needing to reassure her, Bass reached out as he said, “I don’t know that I have ever seen anything more beautiful than you, in that dress, in this moment.” 

Her smile was shy and seemed to be missing the Matheson confidence she exuded thru every moment he had known her; and it made her even more beautiful to him.  Stepping forward, Charlotte asked, “So… it’s not silly?”

Choking on a laugh, Bass shook his head and moved forward to meet her, “No, silly is not even close to the word I would use.  Sexy – Yes! Perfect – Absolutely! Inspiring – without a doubt!  but, never silly… NOT EVER!  In fact…”, Bass paused knowing if he asked this next question it would change things for them.   He just didn’t know if he could hope enough to ask and believe he would get the answer he wanted.   As it stood, he knew it would only be her for the rest of his days, he would protect her and love her and willingly accept whatever she offered; but if he asked and by some miracle she said… well that would take hope and hope was something he might not be brave enough to embrace.

In the end, Bass didn’t have to say anything, because Charlotte stepped up and placed a hand on his chest before asking, “Would you be upset if I asked you to put out the fire and put a lid on dinner?  I don’t think eating is what I most want to do in this moment.”

Looking into her eyes, Bass grinned before weaving his fingers into her silky hair and capturing her mouth in a deep, penetrating kiss.   Feeling her arms weave around him and yank at the back hem of his shirt, Bass started to walk her back toward the stairs.    His lips finding the lobe of her ear, Bass whispered the words that scared him the most, “This means something Charlotte.  You need to know, need to understand that if we go up those stairs or if we don’t either way, I will spend the rest of my life loving you and putting you first.”

Knowing this was the right decision, Charlotte stepped out of his embrace and turned toward the stairs before directing, “Then douse that stove fire, I can’t have you burning down this perfect little home; and I will meet you upstairs.”  

Chuckling at her bossiness, Bass moved to douse the fire then made for the stairs before Charlotte realized the massive error in her judgement and stopped him.   At the top of the stairs he was stunned to see her sporting, not the ridiculous sexpot underwear that was in the bag with the dresses, but a hand sown white cotton bra and matching boy short briefs and it was perfect.    “Is it everything you were hoping for?” she asked clearly knowing the answer from his reaction.

“I can’t imagine anything more you and I wouldn’t change a thing!” He responded as he stepped between her legs and pushed her back onto the bed.   Reaching out with a single hand, Bass flicked the front clasp and reverently pushed aside the fabric with the tips of his fingers gently grazing the pebbled nipple before cupping the base of her breast and more firmly flicking her nipple.   He watched as her eyes closed, feeling the moan that escaped her lips.   Bending his head Bass nuzzled the valley between her breasts before rubbing the scruff of his bearded chin to push aside the remaining cup and sucking the stiff peak into his mouth.   As she arched into him, Bass felt her hands unbuttoning his jeans and pushing at the fabric.  Pushing himself back, Bass savored the visual of her topless in bed before commanding, “Take those briefs off and get into the center of that bed.”

Loving his forceful, gravely words, Charlotte watched him strip and let loose a low growl at his impressive length.  “Well, well… I guess you did find my simple cotton briefs arousing.”

“And they will look even better on the floor, so move it!” He snarled.   When he lowered himself onto her moments later, Bass’ fingers found her as ready for him as he was for this moment.   He must have surprised her however, when he rolled onto his back taking her with him and giving her the control of being on top.  

Charlotte responded quickly to the invitation to lead and positioned herself to take him in fully before he thrust up.   They settled into a rhythm of thrusting and Bass using his thumb to flick at her bundle of nerves; her head back, eyes closed, as Bass watched the most beautiful sight he could remember.   When she ground down upon him and shattered, Bass felt himself losing control and tried to move Charlotte before he exploded; but she was having none of it grounding into the after-shocks and he lost control inside of her warm depth.   

For a long time Charlotte lay wrapped in his arms, loving the feel of him still inside of her; knowing this was the moment… moving to settle herself against his side, Charlotte began tracing his well-defined abs and pondered the question she had been trying to answer since earlier that afternoon.   When the words escaped her lips they were more confident then she anticipated they would be, “And… what if I did love you?  What if I told you that I loved you… loved you so much that I would be the one person strong enough to never abandon you; and not because I knew you would never leave me, or because I knew I would be your priority and I want so badly to be someone’s priority, or even because it is unquestionable you would protect me and our children with your very life; but because I feel…” she drifted off and it was a long while before Bass watched her lift her head and heard her soft words, “You are sexy as hell, and you make me laugh, and you don’t question my abilities, and well that was the best sex I have ever had, but all that can’t compare to the fact that I feel hopeful when I am with you.   I feel like life is actually full of possibilities, like it is ok to hope…”.   And with those words Charlotte watched Bass smile a bright, genuine smile in response before pulling her down for another kiss.

 

* * *

 

Next up: Chapter 11:  “Both, both is good!”


	11. Both, both is good!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello All! Hopefully, people are reading and enjoying this story. Having written today, I am guessing 1 more chapter and possibly and epilogue. Thanks for reading; I appreciate the support and I love hearing your thoughts. - B

* * *

Gently pushing himself between the most incredible pair of thighs he had ever saddled up to, Bass grinned mischievously before scraping his beard along the soft pale skin – once, then twice and finally a third time before Charlotte reacted.

Without opening her eyes, Charlotte shook her head and murmured, “How is it you are still ready to go?  I thought the advantage to an old guy was I might get a little sleep!”

“Old? Wow, insulting the man with his face between your legs… it’s a choice; of course if someone had decided to wake me up with her tongue, I would be thanking God, not tossing insults, but maybe youth and manners aren’t a match…”.   She started to lift her head and chest to get a better view of him, but Bass moved a strong hand to her belly and pressed down, then adding “Oh, no!  You can’t insult my skills and then deny me the pleasure…”.  Bending his head, he swiped his tongue along her eliciting a moan as the bed shook when Charlotte fell back into the moment.

Feeling his chuckle at her response before he flicked her nerves with the pad of his tongue as he took her between his lips, Charlotte decided she was clearly wrong – age might just mean more skill.   But just as she felt herself ready to unravel from his mouth disappeared and she let out a baleful whine, “nooo… I didn’t say you could stop!”

Laughing Bass tossed her jeans at her and a flannel shirt before saying, “That was just your wakeup call.  Get up.  I want to take you someplace special.”

“You were taking me someplace special, damn it!” Charlotte griped, but, as she say him continue to dress, she stood up and pulled on the shirt before looking around the room.   “Where are my panties?  I can’t just wear these jeans!”

“Actually, you can and will, because I want you primed and ready when we reach our destination.” Bass added, as he bent to tie his boots.

Tossing a pillow at him Charlotte threatened, “I could kill you and finish this whole thing off myself!  I invited you into my bed!”

Hearing the threat, Bass added, “Sure, you could kill me… but you could also follow me and end up far more satisfied.”

Yanking up her jeans, she gasped at the still sensitized tissue before she grumbled, “Both, both is good!  I’ll follow you, end up ‘far more satisfied’, as you put it and then kill you.”

Ignoring her Bass chuckled, and headed down the stairs and grabbing a key, he went out the back door.   When she stepped out onto the back porch, he was sitting astride a single horse and offering her a hand up.   Deciding a little torture in return was in order; Charlotte took the offered hand and settled herself flush against his back.   As Bass encouraged the horse forward, she secured her seat, not by wrapping her arms around his waist, but by securing her hands to his thighs and feeling his immediate response.

Settling into the ride, Charlotte leaned her head against his back and focused on the warmth of his body.   Twenty minutes later when the slow canter stopped; she was jolted from what had ended up being a light nap.   Looking around she saw a dark metal windmill amidst miles of wheat fields.   Lit by millions of stars in the inky night sky, Charlotte watched as he slid off the horse and moved to help her down.   Humoring him, she allowed Bass to grab her waist and pull her off the horse, then watched as he settled the horse near a bale of hay and then motioned for her to join him as he moved toward an old rusted out convertible car.    Bass released her hand and spread the blanket in the back seat before explaining, “This is a VW bug.  A bit of a chick car, but everyone should experience sex in the back seat of a car at least once in their lives and I heard one of the priests talking about a star anomaly that would be visible.”

Shaking her head, Charlotte tried to understand his reasoning, but asked anyway, “We sleep outside all the time.   I’ve seen stars and I am unclear what the advantages of sex in this rusted relic.”

“Just trust me.  Get in, settle yourself under this blanket against me and look up.”  Bass barked as he hopped up into the back seat and settled himself. 

Deciding to play along, she stepped up on the running board and settled her bottom on the window ledge before swinging her legs over and plopping herself down on the blanket covered seat and against his chest.   Bass flicked out another blanket to cover them and wrapped her in his arms.    Nuzzling her neck, Bass started a story.  “PB this would have been a rite of passage, you out with some ‘handsie’ unworthy boy, in the back of a car and Miles and I pulling up alongside, because we would have put a tracker on the vehicle.   You yelling that we ruined your life and Miles high fiving me as you got in the car grumbling and complaining.”

As she looked up, even in the dim starlight Charlotte could see Bass’ smile.  He looked like he loved the idea of crashing her date.   Considering it for a moment she suggested, “So what would have happened, if it was Miles catching you with me under this blanket and a hand up my shirt?   Because, I could have easily fallen for you ‘PB’ as you call it.”

Bass tweaked the nipple he had been playing with and kissed the back of her neck.  “I’m not stupid.  I know how Miles thinks, and I would have attached the tracker to the first long haul truck at a gas station I could find then headed in the opposite direction with you.”       

Laughing Charlotte replied, “I don’t understand half the words in that sentence, but you almost seem proud of your reasoning… so I am just going to go with it.”

Bass freed one of his arms and pointed into the sky, “Look there it is! It’s called the Witch Head Nebula.   See the green and yellow gases make the stars look almost neon blue.   It is part of the Orion constellation and the billowy green and yellow clouds are actually baby stars brewing and clouds of dust being lit from behind by massive stars.   And if you follow my finger you can see how the outline forms the profile of a witch…”

Charlotte followed his finger as it moved; looked at the strangely blue stars and the colors of the baby stars and settled herself deeper into his arms before contentedly saying, “This is impressive.  I gotta say, you definitely hit a homerun with this one.”

Kissing the top of her head he added, “I was hoping for a multi-homer night, but while we enjoy the star show I am happily content to stay right here on second base.”

* * *

 

Next Up: Chapter 12: Someplace Only We Know - what will likely be the last chapter... and a epilogue.  


	12. Someplace Only We Know

The morning Bass was made aware their ‘little time off the road’ had somehow extended from that first week into a second, and without even realizing from there into a month, he had been late to morning Mass.   Charlotte had been wrapped in his arms, which had been their routine since that first night together, and the morning had a slight chill, so the blankets and the warmth of her naked body had been too tempting to leave.   When he had eventually risen and made his way across the campus the day’s activities had already begun.  People were moving about their day, some waved as they crossed his path, others he stopped to talk to, if only briefly; as a result when he softly pulled open the door Bass found himself standing in an empty church.   Deciding the routine had been good for his sanity, Bass moved to take a seat and reflect on all that had happened yesterday, as well as what was ahead for the day.    It was then that an unfamiliar priest walked up to Sebastian and sat next to him. For a long time they sat quietly staring and until the vaguely familiar elderly man said, “You have been here quite some time, just more than a month now…”

As the sentence trailed off, Bass sat pondering what had been said with a great deal of surprise – a month, how had that happened?   He supposed that he and Charlotte had fallen into a routine.   He had found he liked starting each day with a message, a chance to reflect and decide how to move forward; and he had taken on the role of supporting the training of the peace keeping force and the border patrol guards which had kept his body sharp.   Strangely, Charlotte had chosen a different path, she had rotated through a series of disciplines… she had learned to spin yarn, had quilted and worked to sew clothes – all jobs that she seemed to truly enjoy despite his opinion that those were amongst the least Charlotte things on the planet.   But as he thought about it, her job choices appeared to be more like classes she was taking, because she had also helped with harvest, canning and jam making; made candles and spent several days with an herbalist.   It was as if she had just let go of the strain and need to fight and was looking, searching through all that was out there…  Regardless, they had dinner together each evening, continued with their walks as the sun set, and – his favorite part of each day – they had continued to end each day in bed together.    Without overtly saying it, they had settled into the dream life Charlotte had wanted, had asked for that afternoon on their 3rd day here.  As Bass had come to that realization, the man sitting next to him spoke again.

“Is it your intention to stay, to abandon your initial plan of meeting up with Miles, of stopping the false leaders from taking over the outside world; and instead to live your lives here?”

At that Bass thought for a long time before responding, “It is a good life here… Charlotte is happy and I love her, so though I don’t think either of us realized we had been here this long; I know neither of us are unhappy with this life.”

Nodding the strange man continued, “We have been watching you, in this place.   It has made you different, and though we wish our sister to stay here, as it makes her happy, she is needed in Texas.”

Confused Bass attempted to remain calm and waited.   Something was not right about the man sitting next to him.   He looked vaguely familiar, but was not a member of the community.   His speech pattern was stilted and odd; but more than that he seemed almost unnatural in some way.   Having learned that when he didn’t speak it often made others uncomfortable, and that disconcerting feeling of quiet would lead to over sharing, Bass chose not to respond. 

Whatever it was simply laughed, “We will talk when we are ready and we will share what you need to know.  Wait or don’t wait it will not impact what you learn.”  

With those words Bass knew he was not sitting next to a member of this community, he didn’t know what was going on, but there was something very off in this moment.  And that was when it hit him, the older looking man bore a striking resemblance to his junior high assistant principal.   He had liked Mr. Jay; everyone had because the man loved middle school kids – which was odd because even their parents don’t even like their middle schoolers most days.   Before Bass could ask a question Not Mr. Jay continued.

Grinning he spoke, “I don’t have the time in a hundred days to explain what I am to you and convince you to believe me; interestingly it would likely take more than a thousand just to explain it to Miles.”

Bass laughed at that and the thing continued, “We understand she is happy and we appreciate that you are committed to making our sister happy, but you and Charlotte must join Miles and fight against the false government.    They are not good; they seek only greed and power; they cannot be trusted and must be stopped.   With you and Miles together, Charlotte can become the leader she is meant to be.   She will be the hero our sister should be.”  Then without asking it clarified, “Rachel is our creator therefore Charlotte is our sister.   We will protect her.”   Assessing his building confusion and frustration it continued to speak, “We see how happy you have made her, this place has made her; for that reason we will offer you an exchange.   “Here, this place will be protected it will be completely unfindable, untouched. It is filled with good people seeking out ways to do better; it will be removed from the vision of the patriots.  And it will be waiting for Charlotte and you, here when you return.”  Letting him process it stood and stepped into the aisle before finishing the message it was meant to share.   “But, you must go now into this fight.   The Patriots are gaining ground too quickly and if we cannot come to agreement they will be here to overrun this place within weeks – it will destroy Charlotte to see this haven die.  Go, help Miles and we will protect this place.   But… we feel compelled to tell you, DO NOT return here with Rachel.   Our mother is many things, but more than anything it is clear that she does not belong here.   Your heart healed, you grew here; her heart does not grow in the way hearts are supposed to grow here.   She would not belong and would ruin this for our sister.”

In that moment, before he could say anything, it nodded and said, “Then it is agreed”.   A beat passed and the man dissolved into blue light.

 

* * *

 

The trip back across the quad, was the hardest distance he had traveled in some time.   After the strange conversation had ended, Bass had sought out Father Brad and told him that they needed to continue on to reach Miles, but he had asked if they could return and if the tiny house could remain vacant until that day.   Smiling the priest had nodded in agreement and encouraged him to bring Miles back upon his return.    With that he had set off; attempting to use the walk to find a way to explain what had happened to Charlotte. 

Approaching the back door, Bass could hear her off key singing as he reached for the handle.   Pushing the door open, Bass wanted to laugh at her flailing/dancing that seemed perfectly in sync with her voice.   Leaning against the door frame he continued to watch for a few moments before she offered, “Are you going to join me or continue to let the heat from the fire escape?”   It may have been cowardly, but instead of just telling her right away, Bass chose one more night.  He chose to take the offered hand and dance.   And when she left for an afternoon session of canning, he chose to covertly pack up the wagon with many of their, but not all of them – somethings would be better left here to wait for them.   He stopped by the neighbors and asked them to take in the cats and to watch the house until they returned and he made dinner, because it was his turn.   And that evening he chose to spend one more night making love to her, because Bass knew that would have to stay in this little house as well.

In the morning, before Bass could speak, Charlotte gently ran her fingers across his muscled abs and, without looking, asked, “Do you want to leave directly after you get back from morning Mass?”

Kissing the top of her head, Bass promised, “This place… I promise you it will be here waiting for us after we finish helping Miles, but we need to go and help in this fight… and this place, this amazing, special, perfect place… it needs to be someplace only we know.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read. This is the final chapter in the sequence of the story, because the epilogue will come after the Patriot war. I will also mention that, at this stage of the show the nano had not turned on Aaron and gotten too out of hand, so I am going with that... I hope to have the epilogue up before the end of the week, but we will see. - B


	13. Better Angels: Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the insanely long delay! I kept bouncing this around and finally settled on an ending I liked - hopefully someone is reading this and will like it too! I went back and reread the previous chapters and realized, I really miss these two characters. Well, I am off to enjoy Christmas - hope you all like this little present. - B

Deciding to take a more direct route, they had been traveling southwest toward Texas and Miles for maybe five days when Charlie confronted the depressing fact that there would be no reason to turn around and go back.   The moodiness, cramps and bloating started and she had to give up hope that she and Bass might have made a child, and without that last grasping straw they could not just go back and hide in their perfect home.   They would have to continue – toward Willoughby, and her mother, and another fight, another war.   And it made her angry!  Angry that her life was good – even for a little while, and now it would be fighting and death, again.   Angry that she was sleeping out under the stars and not to look at some magical constellation in the night sky; and that instead of being in her warm comfortable bed, she was back to taking shifts as look out to whoever was coming for them next.  But most of all she was angry at him!   Pissed that for all the times they had made love he had not gotten her pregnant!  And so she let the anger fester; let the silence build between them… to punish him because life was never fair to her, never went her way.   And so, a week later, when they reached Miles and he accused Bass of touching her she said, “Hey, hey, I wouldn’t let him touch me.” Charlie knew she was hurting Bass, but he had been right to say they would need to leave there time in the community back in that tiny, precious home.   And when Bass said, “I saved her life.”  Charlie could see only a small glint of hurt at her denial of him and what they had been together.  In that moment, her father was back on her shoulder asking why she still had not thanked him…

 

* * *

 

Charlotte knew she had forgiven Bass for not getting her pregnant – not giving them a reason to go back, the night her world was plunged into darkness.   The night he died, because her hateful mother would rather avenge her brother than even consider what Charlotte needed or wanted, she still had not thanked him and then he was gone.  He was gone and her tiny home dissolved into a dream, a fantasy that she was no longer sure had happened.

 

* * *

 

Publicly, Miles forgiveness had not come fully until the morning Bass had delivered the Patriot President to Blanchard.   For the 6 months that followed the three of them had battled as a unit, had led the Rangers to the decimation of the Patriots, and had been declared Generals and heroes of the great state of Texas – a title that came with money and pardons and offers of leadership roles in Austin.  The offers had been promptly and politely refused.   Though Charlotte might have placed their time together in a locked box, Bass clearly had not.  There in Blanchard’s office, in front of Miles, Bass had asked her to go back to their little home in Kansas, and she had nearly wept with joy, before realizing she had to move quickly or Miles would have killed Bass.

 

* * *

 

10 years later

“When you need to make a decision it is so very important that you listen to the little voice on your shoulder that tells you the right thing, the good thing.  Think of it like having a little me on your shoulder – reminding you to say ‘thank you’, reminding you to say ‘excuse me’, or ‘I’m sorry’, or ‘can I help’ – that voice needs to be there to help you.”   Charlotte implored her sons to listen.   At 9 her twins had spent more time getting into mischief than anything else.   When not in school or finishing their chores with their father, they were hard to find and near impossible to control.   A few months back, Bass had assured her they would outgrow the trouble, but when she had mouthed off that it took him until 50 to do it, he had tossed her over his shoulder and had given her rump a swat.   That had led to a pleasurable afternoon and her current predicament – pregnant again and praying that this time would be a little girl.   They had six rambunctious boys crammed into that attic, mostly because she hated the idea of leaving their perfect – way to small little craftsman; but even though it would require a move to a bigger home, she needed this baby to be a girl.

From behind the closed back porch door, Bass listened to his perfect wife’s exasperation and knew he needed to intervene. 

Standing next to him, Miles grinned, “They are no different than we were at that age.”   

Chuckling Bass reached for the knob, “Don’t tell Charlotte.   She needs hope.”  Pushing open the door, Bass watched as his beautiful wife turned her tired eyes toward him.  Bass stepped forward and kissed the top of her head before announcing, “Boys, find your brothers and start packing your things – we are moving to a bigger home.   Grandpa Miles is going to help you fill the wagon.”

Turning Charlotte gave Bass a questioning look before asking, “Moving huh… I don’t remember approving a move.”

Bass kissed her nose and moved to sit across from her in one of the vacated chairs.  “It is two houses down.  We are trading with the elderly couple in the 4 bedroom house you love, because they don’t want anything that big anymore and you have to know we CAN’T add another child to this house.”

Charlotte looked at Bass – this man that she had loved, that had loved her and given her this dream of a life and shook her head.   Smiling Charlotte cupped his scruffy cheek with her palm and finally gave in, “Thank you… thank you for loving me; for our new home; for all of these crazy, wild, insane boys; for this life, for putting me first…”.   Leaning forward she barely brushed her lips against his before finally adding, “… for saving me – that night and over and over again since.”

Bass laughed, a deep hearty laugh, before pulling her onto his lap and responding, “Took you long enough!”       

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the inspiration to start writing again. I am cross posting this here and on Fanfiction.net - I am also trying to decide if I should migrate all of my other stories over... I appreciate comments greatly! - B


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